The squad room was silent save for the sound of fingers tapping quietly over a keyboard. The building had been almost empty for hours, though he was sure he'd heard Nichols' team stomping around upstairs somewhere. Releasing a quiet sigh, McGee sat back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes in an attempt to clear his blurry vision. His back ached from the hours he'd already spent hunched over the computer, but he refused to give up just yet.
"I know you're out there somewhere," he muttered to the empty room before he took a deep breath and leaned forward again, his fingers poised and ready to enter Jameson's information into the computer for what felt like the millionth time.
They were the same stats he'd been typing in for well over two weeks now and despite the fact that he kept the information posted to the top of his computer monitor, he knew it wasn't necessary. Petty Officer Rodney Jameson was a name he knew he would never forget.
"It is never a good sign when you start talking to yourself, Timothy."
The voice was quiet, though it startled him from his thoughts. Turning, wide-eyed, he was surprised to see Ducky standing behind him, resting his arms on the partition that separated their bull pen from the rest of the third floor. He hadn't heard the elevator ding, nor had he heard the sound of the stairwell door closing. Either he was losing it completely, or the old medical examiner had taken a page or two out of Gibbs' book on the art of sneaking up on people.
"What are you doing here so late, Doctor Mallard?" He asked, minimizing the search screen on his monitor before turning completely in the chair to face the old man.
"Perhaps I should ask you the same thing," he mused, a tired smile playing on his lips. "But since I am sure I already know-"
"I'm just trying to get caught up on some paperwork," he responded, dropping his eyes just slightly.
"Something so pressing that it can't wait until morning?"
"Something like that. What about you?"
"Just finished up an autopsy for Nichols. It was fairly straight forward. In fact, it reminded me quite a bit of a young man I once had the displeasure of autopsying a few years ago. You see, what made his case so interesting was…" he trailed off at the dull look in the young agent's eyes. "Well, perhaps I'll save that story for another time," he said kindly.
It was all McGee could do to keep from releasing a sigh of relief, though he forced a smile for the older man's benefit.
"It's quite late, you know," Ducky said, glancing down briefly at his watch. "You should head home. Get a few hours sleep. I dare say Jethro will want you at your best in the morning."
"I'm not gonna be much longer," he lied.
"Good," Ducky responded, tapping the partition gently before he pulled away from it. "Right then. Have a good night, Timothy. Sleep well."
"Thanks, you too. And Ducky?"
"Yes?"
Hesitating slightly, McGee bit down on his bottom lip gently. "Have you uh… I was just wondering how DiNozzo was doing."
"Ah. He's doing as well as can be expected, my boy. He'll have a long road ahead of him, but I'd venture to say that he'll come out of this just fine. Maybe not completely the same, but just fine. And forgive me for suggesting so, but I do think it would do you both a bit of a good if you went and saw him."
"I don't…" he trailed off, swallowing hard. "Don't think I'm quite ready for that."
"I understand your need and desire to find the bastard who did this to Anthony, Timothy, but don't run yourself into the ground trying to do it. Jethro won't tolerate it and I can tell you that it is not what Tony would want either."
The young agent said nothing, though his shoulders slumped as he turned back to his computer monitor in an attempt to ignore the older man's intense gaze.
"Very well," Ducky said after a moment, releasing a quiet sigh. "One of these days, hopefully you will be ready to let some of this guilt go, but I can see that today is not that day."
Eyeing the younger man for a moment longer, the medical examiner pushed away from the partition and made his way to the elevator.
"Ducky?"
Stopping at the quiet voice, he turned, his frown darkening at the distraught look on the agent's face.
"Could you just… tell him I was asking about him?"
"Of course, my dear boy," he said with a curt nod. "Goodnight, Timothy."
"Goodnight."
::::::
Two Days Later…
Gibbs released a quiet sigh as he pulled his polo shirt over his head before he stepped out into the hallway and pulled his bedroom door closed behind him. Checking his watch, he descended the stairs quickly and stopped just outside of the living room, watching as his Senior Agent slept.
The younger man had been out of it for the better part of the last two days, thanks in large part to his medications. The first two days after being released from the hospital hadn't been easy for either of them, but now that he was sure Tony was settled as much as possible given his horrendous injury, Gibbs knew he had to return to work, if only for a few hours.
He had arranged for Abby to come and sit with the Italian until he was able to pull himself away from the office, though he'd promised to send a replacement in the form of Ducky around lunchtime. Tony had been complaining about his medications not working properly and the good doctor had graciously offered to come by and see what he could do.
"Abby?"
Glancing up from her friend's bedside, Abby offered Gibbs a small smile. "Hey there. Heading out?"
"Uh huh. You sure you're gonna be okay with him?"
"I'm sure."
"He's not to get out of the bed unless it's to go to the bathroom and make sure he uses his crutches."
"Gibbs…" She trailed off, barely stifling a quiet giggle. "We're going to be fine."
"Yeah, as long as he's asleep," the older man muttered before he crossed the room, dropping a quick kiss to the top of her head. "He gives you any trouble, you call me and I'll be right home."
"We'll be fine," she repeated.
Glancing back at his agent once more, he nodded. "He's supposed to take his medication again around 1100 hours, but try to hold him off if you can. Duck's gonna wanna talk to him when he gets here, and that stuff knocks him out almost right away. If it's botherin' him too bad, go on and give it to him, butâ€""
"I never knew you to be such a mother hen, Gibbs," Abby teased, ignoring the blank stare that the other man threw her way. "Tony's going to be just fine. I'll take good care of him."
"It's not him I'm worried about," he responded, the slightest hint of a sigh escaping him. "He's not himself right now, Abs. Can't really blame him for that, but I don't want you thinkin' that when he wakes up, he's gonna be the DiNozzo you're used to. Anyway," he shook his head. "Like I said, you need me, you call. I can be here in ten."
Biting on her lower lip gently, the younger woman nodded before she turned back to her sleeping friend. "We'll be fine," she said quietly, though whether she was reassuring herself or Gibbs, she wasn't quite sure.
Forcing his tired eyes open at the sound of incessant clicking, Tony allowed a quiet groan to escape him. The noise stopped almost immediately, and to his left, he heard the sound of shuffling before Abby's smiling face came into view, peering down at him.
"Good morning, sunshine," she greeted.
"Wha' are you doin' here?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"Keeping you company."
"You mean babysitting," he corrected, stifling a yawn as he attempted to push himself up against the pillows. "Gibbs go back to work?"
"Not willingly. How are you feelin'?"
"Same as I was the last time you saw me," he responded gruffly, wincing as he stretched out as much as possible without pulling on the stitches in his stomach.
Sinking back into her chair, she bit back a quiet groan when she heard the irritation in his voice. Though she'd seen his attitude in full swing at the hospital and Gibbs had warned her that it had not improved, she'd been hoping that being home would have helped with his mood.
Apparently, it hadn't.
"You want me to fix you something to eat?"
"No." Without saying another word, he leaned forward, reaching for his crutches.
"Where are you going?" She asked, moving to grab them when his fingers closed around her wrist, stilling her movements.
"Don't. I can get them myself."
For half a second, she debated arguing with him over the fact that he was being so stubborn, but quickly decided against it. Holding her hands up in surrender, she sank back down into her chair and offered him what she hoped was a sincere smile. "Okay. I'm sorry."
He said nothing as he gripped the crutches in his hand before maneuvering himself up carefully, closing his eyes against the pain in his leg. "Fuck," he hissed.
"You okay?"
An angry retort was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back carefully, and instead offered her a curt nod. Repositioning the crutches under his arm, he took a deep breath and started for the bathroom, each step more excruciating than the last.
She watched him struggle to the next room, tears burning her eyes as she watched him go. Gibbs had warned her about his need for some sort of independence, but it felt like a cruel and unusual punishment to just sit by and watch, knowing how bad he was hurting.
By the time he made it back to the bed, there was a light sheen of sweat over his forehead and cheeks. Sinking down onto the mattress with a groan, he laid his crutches against the wall before he ran his hand over his face. "I don't…" he trailed off, swallowing so hard. "I don't mean to be so nasty."
"Tony…"
"I'm so angry, Abby. I can't… I can't even go to the bathroom without being completely and totally wiped out and it's not… it's not fucking fair."
Leaning forward in the chair, she reached for his hand, relieved when he didn't pull away. "You have every reason to be angry about this, Tony. And I'm going to say this and I just… I hope you understand that I'm not trying to hurt you, but you have to stop taking it out on us. We know you're hurt and we know you're angry, but we just want to help you."
"I know," he responded, dropping his eyes to their linked hands. "I know. I'm sorry."
Standing up from the chair, she leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, smiling sadly when he leaned into her touch. "We love you, Tonyboy."
He closed his eyes against the unfamiliar sting of tears, pinching the bridge of his nose as he got his emotions under control. "Um…" he started, pausing to swipe at his nose. "What time is it?"
"You still have another couple of hours before Ducky gets here with your new meds, but we can watch a movie or something if you want to."
The Italian was silent for a moment as he contemplated the position he was in before nodding in agreement. "Alright. But only if we can watch Casablanca."
Abby grinned, straightening her back before heading over to the TV. "You got it." Pulling the DVD out, she popped it into the player and picked up the remotes before making her way back to his side. "You know, I've never actually seen this movie."
"Never?" He asked, his voice filled with disbelief. "And you call yourself a movie aficionado. Tsk tsk."
She smiled, pleased to be getting a glimpse of the Tony she knew before the shooting. "I never claimed that."
He rolled his eyes and patted the space next to him, offering her a small smile. "C'mere. This movie is best watched while cuddling."
"If you say so, DiNozzo."
Toeing off her shoes, she slipped between the sheets next to him, careful not to jar his leg too much as she tried to make herself comfortable leaning against him. They sat in a mutual silence, watching the beginning of the movie when Tony began snoring quietly, his head dropping back against the pillows.
Smiling to herself, she snuggled closer to the older man, focusing her attention on the movie as she listened to her steady heartbeat, her head rising and falling in synch with his chest as his breathing slowed, signaling his descent into a light slumber.
::::::
"Abby?"
Forcing her eyes open at the sound of the hoarse voice, Abby pushed herself up against the pillows. "You okay, sweetie?"
"No," Tony managed, his jaw clenched as he shifted on the bed. "What... what time is it?"
Rubbing her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision, Abby squinted at the clock on the DVD player, a frown darkening her face. "It's a little after eleven."
"I need…" he trailed off, swallowing hard in an attempt to bite back a strangled cry. "I need my medicine."
"Do you think you can hold off just a little longer?" She asked, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair gently. "I know it hurts, but Ducky should be here any minute."
"Can you… can you call him?"
"Of course. I'll be right back," she promised, climbing out of the bed carefully, wincing at his quiet whimper when she jarred the mattress slightly. She could feel the tears burning her eyes as she hurried into the front hallway and grabbed her phone from her purse.
She'd just hit the 'send' button on her phone when the sound of a car door closing outside caught her attention. Parting the front curtains just slightly, she breathed a loud sigh of relief when she spotted Ducky on his way up the front sidewalk.
"He's here, Tony!" She called, pulling the front door open to greet the old doctor. "Thank God you're here, Ducky."
"How is he doing this morning?"
"He wasn't doing too bad until a little while ago, I guess. He's hurting pretty bad but he said he'd hold off on taking his meds until you got here."
"Very good," Ducky said with a nod as he stepped into the house, pulling a pill bottle out of his pocket. "This should help with the pain more than his current prescription."
They stepped into the living room and frowned darkly at the sight of the younger man writhing uncomfortably on the couch.
"Here we are, Anthony. Do you need some water?" Ducky asked, sinking down into the chair next to do bed.
He shook his head vehemently, not trusting his voice as he held his hand out for the bottle. Ducky handed him the medication, watching the agent's hands shake as he struggled to open the lid.
"Tony…" Abby tried, gently prying the bottle from his trembling fingers. Opening it, she shook two of the tablets out before she closed the lid and placed the pills in his hand. "There you go."
"Just one will do, Abigail," Ducky said, plucking the extra pill from the agent's hand before returning it to the bottle. For a brief moment, Tony looked as though he was going to argue, but decided against it.
It was only half a second later that he'd swallowed the medicine and settled back against his pillows, swiping a hand over his sweaty face as he waited for the pills to kick in. "Th… thanks for getting these for me, Ducky."
"You are quite welcome, but you need to be careful with these pills, Anthony."
"What do you mean?"
"They're highly addictive. They need to be taken exactly as prescribed on the bottle. I have consulted with Doctors Michaels and Reid and while they agree that these will be beneficial for you for the time being, we are going to reevaluate the situation after you start your therapy and see if we can get you on a different kind."
"Ducky… if they're that easy to get addicted to, then I don't thinkâ€""
"As long as you take them as prescribed, you will be just fine," he assured him, offering him a smile before he stood. "Do you have any other questions or any issues I should know about?"
Shaking his head, the Italian breathed a sigh of relief when he realized the pain in his leg had already begun to fade. "No. I think these are gonna work."
"Good. Should you need anything else, do not hesitate to call. Jethro wanted me to tell you he'll be home shortly."
"Tell him to take his time," Abby said dismissively, sinking back down onto the mattress beside her friend. "We're just fine and besides, we have a movie to finish watching."
"Very well," Ducky said with a smile. "If I don't hear from you tonight, I'll stop by tomorrow and see how things are going."
"Thanks for everything, Duck," Tony responded.
With one last quick look at the injured agent, Ducky said his goodbyes and headed for the front door, leaving the pair alone.
"Think you're gonna be able to stay awake this time?" Abby teased, nudging her friend's arm gently when they heard the front door close.
"I think so," he responded, offering her the first genuine smile she'd seen since before the shooting. Tony still had a long way to go in his recovery but now that his pain level was somewhat manageable, Abby was sure that everything was going to be just fine.
Chapter End Notes:
A/N: Hello hello to all my faithful readers! If you aren't reading my other fic and missed my reasoning for the delays on these updates, I'll fill you in so you don't think I've given up on this fic! I'm currently in the process of moving and it's taking a lot longer than we thought it would! Thankfully, we should be finishing up today which will hopefully give me more time to work on this fic because I really am enjoying it! I just hope you guys are too so don't forget to review and let me know what you're thinking!